Gravitation
by M-Maltesers
Summary: Kabaji's world wasn't as simple as it first seemed from the outside. Kabaji Munehiro and Atobe Keigo. Shonen Ai.


Notes: Written in 2007. This is a personal favourite of mine. :3 I hope you enjoy reading it.

**Gravitation**

**By Miki**

Kabaji's world wasn't as simple as it first seemed to most people.

His world was one which revolved around the people most important to him and always had, but the blank expression he so often wore didn't mean he was completely void of emotions, as his team mates would have so many people believe.

At first it had been his parents to whom he had gravitated, and then a little later, his younger sister.

Then there had come Atobe.

Atobe, who eclipsed everyone and everything else and for whom Kabaji never gave a second thought to dropping everything and running.

Atobe, who had never judged him with words, but who had become Kabaji's closest friend and the first person Kabaji thought of when he woke up in the mornings.

Kabaji knew what the other members of Hyoutei's team thought of him, and he realised what the girls were thinking when they saw him in the hallways with Atobe.

Kabaji's conversations with Atobe were more non-verbal than anything else.

They were hand gestures and sighs and the way Atobe's lips moved to frown or smirk.

Kabaji had never considered the possibility that he'd one day be without Atobe; whether because they'd go their separate ways or because they simply wouldn't fit together anymore the way they had since the day they'd met.

The possibility that either of them would change had never occurred to him, nor had the thought that they would grow up and perhaps grow apart.

It was something Shishido said that first put the thought into Kabaji's head; a niggling one-liner that repeated itself over and over again like a bad tagline from a B-rated movie.

It was about the captaincy.

Hiyoshi and Ootori and the captaincy and who would be vice-captain next year when the third years were too busy to bother with club activities anymore.

Kabaji realised he wasn't in the line for the vice-captaincy, or even the captaincy, but that wasn't what bothered him.

He'd known for a long time that Atobe would graduate before him and that they'd be apart for a year, but he had never thought to wonder what would happen after that.

He'd assumed they'd fall back in step together after he graduated; after they were at the same high school, seeing each other in the corridors and playing on the same high school team.

It wasn't until he saw the worry on Shishido and Ootori's faces that it actually occurred to him to wonder if things would actually turn out that way or not.

Gakuto had been obnoxious.

He and Shishido had been bitching at each other the entire practice session and they kept it up after their showers, even after they'd finished changing their clothes and were fixing their shoelaces, sniping and snapping at each other though Ootori tried to interrupt.

Hiyoshi acted as though he didn't care, but Kabaji knew better; recognising the way he was too slow to pull on his shirt, and seeing the mess he made of his tie as he was distracted by the things coming out of Shishido and Gakuto's mouths.

"Ootori, say something," Gakuto snapped. "Don't you care at all?"

"Er…" Ootori stumbled, not having expected the demand. "I think Hiyoshi would make a good captain," he said quickly, saying the first decent thing which came to mind, though it was something of a short statement and Shishido stared at him a little, as though expecting something longer.

There was silence for a moment before Gakuto snorted in derision.

"Only you'd be nice enough to say something stupid like that, Ootori."

"Hey!" Shishido snapped, annoyed. "Choutarou can say what he wants, okay? Stop picking on him, stupid! At least he's not prancing around like a girl and then getting whipped by some second-rate Seigaku pair. Why don't you eat some humble pie once in a while?"

Gakuto bristled visibly.

Shishido's comment had hit the spot, and they both knew it.

"Like _you_ can talk! You're only still here 'cause you cut off all your precious hair," Gakuto sneered. "And you can thank Ootori for that too! What are you going to do next year when you won't have him to save your arse?"

"I don't need Choutarou to save my arse," Shishido spat back, his pride insulted.

He knew he owed a lot of things to Ootori, but Gakuto didn't have to go that far.

He wasn't helpless without Ootori.

"That's right; Shishido-senpai doesn't need me," Ootori interrupted. "I mean, I'll miss him next year, but we'll be at the same high school, won't we, Shishido-senpai? We'll still get to play tennis with each other anyway, won't we?"

Shishido gave a grunt in response, cheeks temporarily flushed with pink at Ootori's innocent declaration.

Gakuto, losing interest in bickering, turned to Oshitari.

"Whatever. Next year Yuushi and I are going to kick your butt anyway."

"I won't be playing doubles next year," Shishido answered, nonchalantly.

Kabaji watched the uncertainty in his movements.

Shishido was nervous.

He'd just said something he probably hadn't meant to say, and judging from Ootori's reaction, he hadn't heard anything like that from Shishido before either.

"But Shishido-senpai!" Ootori protested, quickly; his voice louder than he'd meant it to come out.

"I'll play singles," Shishido declared just as loudly, talking over the top of Ootori's protests.

"I always did before, so I'll just do it again."

Kabaji turned away, feeling odd watching Shishido and Ootori.

Their conversation had descended to quieter words now, and Shishido looked as though he was going to scold Ootori again in a moment, so Kabaji concentrated on tying his shoelaces, finishing what he'd started.

Atobe would want him in a moment, he was sure.

He wondered what he'd do without Atobe next year.

He wondered what Atobe would do without him.

And then it started; a niggling little doubt in the back of his mind.

It was a feeling of uncertainty because he wasn't sure that Atobe really needed him, and even when he was sure he was being useful to Atobe, he wasn't sure that Atobe couldn't just have anyone else do the same thing for him.

He'd always been conscious of his movements, and of his size.

He'd grown fast as a child; easily the tallest boy in his class by the time he was five, and even when the girls hit their growth spurts early on, he'd still remained taller by a good five to ten centimetres.

Now at the age of thirteen, he felt like a giant.

Even next to Atobe he was half a head taller and his arms and legs were so much thicker.

Standing next to Atobe had become something natural, but it hadn't felt normal at first and for a long time, Kabaji had felt a little like a blotch next to his friend, even if Atobe had never once commented on his physique or ever said anything in the slightest about his size or appearance.

Kabaji knew the girls in his class whispered about him sometimes.

They whispered about his hair, about his nose, about his height and about the way they couldn't see over his head to see the blackboard.

They'd whispered about more than that at first though, and it wasn't until Atobe walked into the second year classroom and shot them a dirty glare that they'd stopped remarking on the way Kabaji never spoke, or his monotone if he ever did.

He wondered sometimes what his school days would have been like if he hadn't known Atobe.

He wondered what his school days would be like next year, and the year after, and the year after that.

He wondered if it was possible to lose Atobe over the space of a year.

He wasn't going to stay fourteen forever, just like Kabaji wasn't going to stay thirteen.

What would happen when he turned fifteen and got a girlfriend?

At sixteen: exams?

Seventeen: graduation again?

And eighteen…

Well, he'd be at university then.

"Kabaji!" Atobe snapped then; loudly and close to Kabaji's face.

Kabaji startled.

"Usu."

Atobe frowned, his eyebrows and lips quick to express his discontent and his tone of voice even quicker to reprimand.

"Diary," Atobe said, and Kabaji fetched him his diary.

Only Hiyoshi remained in the locker room, but two minutes later he too had scuttled out and only Kabaji and Atobe were left.

"My mother's having a dinner party next Sunday night," Atobe informed him. "You'll come, won't you, Kabaji?"

Kabaji nodded.

"Good," Atobe replied, pen scratching a note into his diary.

Kabaji didn't say anything as they as they walked to the waiting limousine at the school gates.

He didn't have to.

"Ore-sama's tired," Atobe declared as he settled into his seat and crossed his arms.

He closed his eyes, a slight frown on his face.

"You'll wake Ore-sama up before we reach home, na, Kabaji?"

Kabaji answered with an 'usu' and Atobe was asleep before the car had even pulled onto the main road.

(S)

Kabaji knew what Atobe's mother's party would be like even before he reached the front door.

Atobe had sent the limousine to pick him up early, but even though the party wasn't scheduled to start until six, there were still a few people at the door in front of him.

The butler let them in and gave Kabaji a nod in acknowledgement, telling him that he'd find Atobe in his bedroom.

Atobe was lying on his bed when Kabaji entered, and he looked up quickly at the sound of the door opening.

"Kabaji," he snapped, sounding annoyed.

Kabaji froze; his hand on the doorknob.

"Usu."

Atobe got up from the bed, walking over to him and pursing his lips a little.

"What are you wearing? You can't wear black like that," Atobe scolded, standing so close that Kabaji could smell the shampoo he'd used on his hair.

He smelt of sweet things; fruit, or candy or just plain sugar.

His hands pulled at Kabaji's carefully adjusted bow tie, pulling it undone and off and then unbuttoning the top button of his shirt to flip up his collar.

Kabaji stood stiffly, almost holding his breath.

He felt too tall again as Atobe's eyes studied him, scrutinising his appearance for a moment.

The little niggling insecurity which had started in the back of his mind had snowballed over the week; at first just a fleeting thought during boring classes, he'd found himself thinking about it the entire morning and it had taken him half an hour to choose a bow tie after remembering the way Atobe had told him off last time.

Now the bow tie he'd so painstakingly chosen was lying discarded on Atobe's bed as Atobe fetched a different one.

Atobe hadn't changed into his own clothes for the evening yet, but he tossed his own choice of bow tie at Kabaji and then disappeared again to get dressed in privacy.

Kabaji noticed that their ties were matching colours, and when they finally went downstairs to greet the guests, he felt as though everyone else noticed too.

(S)

It didn't take long for Kabaji to feel awkward after dinner.

Dinner itself had been fine, because he'd been seated next to Atobe, and the people around them treated him as though he were a part of the furniture.

There were a few times Atobe asked him to pass things, but for the most part, Kabaji just kept to himself and Atobe's mother sent the odd smile his way from where she was seated at one end of the table.

"Kabaji," Atobe frowned.

Kabaji stepped up next to Atobe, standing at his side rather than behind him.

The girl conversing with Atobe faltered a little as he did so, and the smile faded from her face just a little.

She'd been speaking to Atobe for about ten minutes, and Kabaji kept feeling jealous at the small smirks of amusement on Atobe's face.

They were talking about schools again; something that usually came up in conversations around the Atobe household.

She'd be attending the same high school as Atobe next year, Kabaji had found out, and she was the daughter of one of Atobe's mother's friends, and the longer the conversation went on, the more good points Kabaji found about her and the more he wanted Atobe to hurry up and finish talking to her.

Atobe hardly ever talked to anyone like her for any length of time, and the fact that he even laughed at the joke she made – Kabaji couldn't understand it – sent a wave of possessiveness through him.

He narrowed his eyes a little at her, envying her ability to talk to Atobe; hating the way she smiled and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear, and hating the way the lines of her dress showed her slender waist and too much of her legs.

Kabaji was only half surprised when Atobe's mother called him away, smiling at him.

"How are you, Munehiro-kun?" she asked, plucking a glass off a passing waiter's tray and handing it to him.

He handled the glass awkwardly, wondering if he was really supposed to drink its contents or if he was holding it for decoration.

Conversations were hard with Atobe's mother.

She was always flitting from subject to subject, hardly worrying whether Kabaji even answered her or not.

Kabaji couldn't help glancing back over his shoulder a few times though, especially when he heard Atobe's laughter again and alongside it, a giggle.

Atobe's mother seemed to sense where his attention was really focused, changing the subject again for the fifth time in a few minutes.

"They look good together, don't they? Harumi's really very mature for her age and Keigo gets along with her well…"

Kabaji tried not to stare as Atobe's mother kept talking on and on and on about the two.

When he finally gave in and turned his head to look at the two of them again, Atobe looked back at him, frowning a little.

Kabaji handed his glass back to a waiter going around, and tried to excuse himself but Atobe's mother was intent on introducing him to more of her friends.

Atobe eventually rescued him by calling him over and looking annoyed doing so, but not before Kabaji had met half the girls in the room.

"What were you doing?" Atobe huffed, having dragged him into hallway outside the kitchen.

If the waiters rushing back and forth were annoyed at the fact that the two boys were taking up precious space by the kitchen doorway, they didn't say anything about it.

Kabaji's mouth refused to work and Atobe tapped his foot on the floor impatiently.

"Since when is everyone else in the room more important than Ore-sama?" Atobe demanded again, eyebrows creased in an expression of frustration.

Kabaji stepped backwards so that he stood against the wall, trying not to catch the eyes of the waiters who squeezed past them.

They couldn't exactly shoot daggers at Atobe, but nothing was stopping them from glaring at Kabaji instead.

Atobe followed Kabaji's lead, one hand on the wall beside Kabaji's head as he leaned in a little.

"Kabaji."

"Usu," Kabaji replied automatically.

"Ore-sama invited you tonight so you could keep Ore-sama company, not so that you could keep everyone else company and leave Ore-sama stuck in a conversation with someone so tedious as Tokugawa Harumi."

"U-Usu," Kabaji replied, a little uncertainly.

Atobe sighed theatrically, rubbing at the spot between his eyes and for a moment, reminding Kabaji of Atobe's father.

They were both silent as a trail of waiters shuffled past with fresh platters of wine bottles and glasses.

Kabaji noticed then that Atobe's lips looked a little dry.

He realised with a jolt of guilt that Atobe probably hadn't drunk anything since dinner, and even throughout dinner, Kabaji had noticed Atobe only really picked at his food and sipped at his water.

Then Kabaji realised that it wasn't as though Atobe couldn't have gotten himself a drink, or even asked one of his butlers to do so.

He wasn't here for Atobe every day, after all, and Atobe never usually had problems with other people doing things for him.

Kabaji wondered if he'd thought all this time that he was more important to Atobe than he really was.

He kept his eyes focused on Atobe though; noting the pursed lips and then the way Atobe ran his tongue over them.

He did that sometimes when he was debating how to say something. It was something he usually took care not to do whenever he was in public, and one of the little quirks Kabaji only noticed when they were alone together.

Kabaji had no idea what was coming.

He felt nervous all of a sudden.

Atobe was being weird and Kabaji couldn't fathom why.

He knew he shouldn't have allowed himself to get sidetracked or even dragged around the room by Atobe's mother, but she was Atobe's mother and he couldn't have refused her because it would have been rude to her and she was just as much his host tonight as Atobe was.

The sense of manners and propriety he'd had ingrained in him as a child was now consuming him with guilt; knowing he shouldn't have left Atobe alone like that but not being able to have said no to his mother either.

Besides, wasn't Atobe busy talking to that girl?

He hadn't even moved when his mother had called Kabaji away, and he didn't seem to notice for a good five minutes, and couldn't he just have called Kabaji then instead of waiting so much longer and then getting annoyed about it?

In the back of his mind, Kabaji knew Atobe wouldn't have left that girl just to go and fetch him back though.

It wasn't something Atobe had been brought up doing; going out of his way to get what he wanted himself.

He was too used to having other people to do it for him.

"Kabaji," Atobe said again.

Kabaji hesitated in replying.

"What am I to you?" Atobe demanded, taking his hand off the wall and stepping back just a little.

He looked up at Kabaji as he questioned him.

It took Kabaji a moment to look away from the intensity of Atobe's gaze.

"You're my friend," he ventured quietly, uncertainly.

They'd never really had defining lines in their relationship.

Atobe was his closest friend and had been for a long time, but sometimes he hadn't been perfectly sure what he was to Atobe.

He almost wanted to voice the question in return; he wanted to be able to stick a qualifier on what they had so that he knew exactly where he stood, so that he wouldn't have false expectations, so that when they were separated next year, he wouldn't be surprised if Atobe suddenly found someone else who was better than he was.

"Is that all?" Atobe questioned, the expression of his eyes suddenly hard.

He looked hurt, and Kabaji knew it straight away, wanting take back his words but not knowing what else Atobe wanted him to say.

If Atobe found someone else next year…

Someone who was smarter, or someone who looked better standing next to him…

Atobe wanted him to say more; that much Kabaji knew, but what did _he_ want to say?

What was Atobe to him?

He was the most important person in Kabaji's life.

He had been the first friend who had simply accepted Kabaji as he was, and who had brought him out of his shell and then introduced him to the game of tennis and taught him that he had skills and talents and that he wasn't just another person in the crowd to someone.

That he meant something to someone else.

Kabaji wasn't used to expressing himself verbally.

The words that came out of his mouth sounded embarrassing and stupid and corny, and like something the heroine in a shoujo manga might say to her crush at the climax of the story.

Only heroines in shoujo manga would be surrounded by a sunset and an empty playground full of childhood memories, and they tended to look a little prettier when they said it, and Kabaji had none of the flowers and sparkles of a girl in a manga.

He was just… himself.

He was just a tongue-tied boy and his backdrop wasn't a sunset but a hallway with waiters shuffling past and shooting the odd look of irritation, and Atobe was standing in front of him waiting…

And Kabaji could only fumble.

"You're…"

For a moment, the sound of his own voice put him off.

He knew what he thought of Atobe; he knew what he wanted to say but hearing the words and knowing Atobe would hear them too… It was nerve wracking.

"You're important to me," he started, immediately regretting the tone of his voice.

He cleared his throat awkwardly and started again.

He didn't like the way his words came out; like he didn't even care about what he was saying, but it had been a long time since anyone had asked something like this of him, and he wasn't sure how to say everything he wanted to say.

"You're my closest friend and you're the most important person… to me," he tried again, hoping that was enough and knowing that for Atobe, it probably wasn't.

He didn't have the courage to say exactly how he felt; how sometimes he felt jealous watching other people talk to Atobe, or how he really hated Valentine's day every year because he was always more worried each year that Atobe would find a girl he liked and forget about him completely, or how if Atobe ever started doing things for himself, Kabaji wouldn't know what to do with himself because he wouldn't have an excuse to always be with Atobe anymore.

Despite that, under Atobe's slight frown, his mouth slipped.

"I'm not good at talking… with you," he said. "I thought you didn't want me to listen to your conversation with… Harumi."

Atobe looked surprised for a moment; completely taken aback as though they were on a court and Kabaji had just sent a ball flying past his ear.

Then he recovered, frowning again and putting one hand to his temple.

Kabaji suddenly felt out of his depth.

He and Atobe rarely talked so it was strange for him to have to express himself in words, and he felt as though his words had failed him.

If only he could have been like Oshitari or even Shishido; brash even, but at least they could say what they wanted to say when it mattered.

Atobe, likewise, looked half-confused, and Kabaji couldn't help but wonder if maybe this wasn't the first time he'd done something to annoy Atobe.

Maybe he'd been driving Atobe crazy and he just hadn't noticed it.

He half expected a rebuke of sorts, or another instruction maybe.

He half expected Atobe to turn around and walk off and call his name to ask him to do something.

So when Atobe finally spoke, he didn't just surprise Kabaji.

"Look, Kabaji," he snapped, voice tense, "Ore-sama doesn't need any of that. Ore-sama has all he wants right here."

A hand grasped Kabaji's wrist tightly; warm and firm and soft.

Kabaji nearly opened his mouth to ask Atobe what he was doing.

The sound of a crash startled them both, and Atobe glared daggers in the direction of a waiter who hurriedly knelt to the ground to pick up the plate he'd just dropped.

He almost looked as though he couldn't believe the plate he'd dropped had really been the one on his arm a moment ago and Kabaji felt almost as confused as the waiter.

What was Atobe saying?

"Ore-sama has you," Atobe said, a little more softly, sounding more like his usual self.

"Honestly, Kabaji," he sighed, tugging on Kabaji's wrist as he moved away from the wall. His hand moved down to Kabaji's as they walked across the hallway and back down towards the room they'd left before.

Warm fingers intertwined with Kabaji's for a few moments.

Kabaji stared down at them as he followed Atobe, almost unwilling to believe Atobe was really touching him like this.

The sound of the string quartet was drifting down the hallway, increasing in volume as they got closer to the room and Kabaji registered the sound of Harumi's voice before they actually stepped back into the room and saw her.

Atobe's fingers slipped out of Kabaji's as they walked towards his mother, having to explain their absence to her before she asked anything funny.

But then Atobe's voice cut through Kabaji's thoughts again, and he forgot all about Harumi. He forgot about Valentine's day and the girls at Hyoutei, and Atobe's mother and Harumi's dress…

Because for just a single second when Atobe turned to him again, Kabaji's world nearly stopped.

"Ore-sama doesn't need anyone else," Atobe stated simply, raising an eyebrow as though to challenge Kabaji to disagree for once. "Na, Kabaji?"

Kabaji smiled just a little when he answered.

"Usu."

.fin.


End file.
